


the truth (shall set you free)

by LtTanyaBoone



Category: X Company (TV)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, F/M, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-26
Updated: 2017-02-26
Packaged: 2018-09-27 03:52:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9956702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LtTanyaBoone/pseuds/LtTanyaBoone
Summary: Aurora finds out what exactly happened when the boys escaped from the train. (missing scene/sort of AU to S03E05)





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was written before episode 6 aired, I only got around to polishing and posting it now.

She wants so desperately to reach out and touch him, but Aurora makes her fingers curl into a fist instead of brushing against Alfred’s arm.

He looks so lost, sitting there in their newly aquired safehouse, hunched over, his shoulders slumped. The picture of defeat.

She hasn’t seen him like this in so long. It makes her throat constrict as she remembers how things were, in the beginning. When he was so out of his element, when everything seemed to spook him. They have come a long way since those days, even if it’s only been mere months they feel like lifetimes have passed in their space. To see him like this again it’s so jarring, it makes every protective instinct inside her scream out.

She’d asked him how it had happened. Had needed to know, had needed to hear how Harry had died. It had been cruel, she’d realized that, but part of her had refused to believe it when she’d heard the news. She needed Alfred’s precision, his way of making a moment come to life, to be able to begin to understand that Harry was gone, never to return.

“He saved my life,” Alfred breathes and Aurora finds herself frowning at him. He doesn’t look up at her, but she sees his hands clench into fists, his nails digging into the palms of his hands. This time, she reaches out. Carefully pries one hand open with both of hers and holds onto it, to prevent him from further inflicting any damage upon himself.

“I, froze.”

She lets out a shocked gasp, her heart skipping a beat before it jumps into her throat, hammering away.

“When I saw Ben’s body, and that of his father, I just... Everything was too much. Too much noise, too much gunpowder... too much pain,” he trails off with a shuddering breath. “I think he may have yelled my name, but I couldn’t stop looking, couldn’t stop staring. Harry came back. I know he was ahead of me one moment, and then he was beside me, yanking on my arm, yelling my name to get me to move. If he hadn’t, if he hadn’t come back, if he’d just run on, he might still be alive.”

_And you would be dead instead._

She doesn’t say it. But the tears are in her eyes the moment the thought occurs to her. And Aurora cannot stop herself, she gets up and pulls Alfred to his feet and wraps her arms around him, a sob leaving her. He’s stiff and tense, and it breaks her heart anew as she twists her fingers into the material of his shirt.

That Harry is gone is terrible. She feels so empty, feels as if a part of her is missing and she will never be able to get it back. The past few months come back to her, how horrible she’d been to him, simply because she couldn’t manage to deal with her own stuff. She turned her back on him, abandoned him, because she hadn’t been able to be the sergeant and friend he’d needed. Pushed him away and punished him for his own grief and the terrible way he had of dealing with it. They’d managed to right things between them, she’d apologized a number of times, in public and in private, when it had only been the two of them. Had tried to explain to him why she’d acted the way she had, tried to make him understand while not excusing her failure at the same times. She likes to think that he got it, and she managed to understand why he’d been acting the way he had, too. Part of her is glad, that they managed to talk about what had happened, before...

That Harry is gone is terrible, and there is no way of making the loss any more bearable. But while she is sad and her entire soul is aching with the loss of someone she held so dear, the mere thought of Alfred dying makes every fiber of her being scream out in anguish.

“Never leave me,” she breathes between sobs and turns her face into his neck, hot tears running down her cheeks. Alfred shifts and she feels his arms carefully wrap around her, the touch soft, barely there, before the pressure increases and he pulls her against him.

“I am so, so sorry,” Aurora apologizes and leans back to kiss his cheek. She shouldn’t. She really should not be doing this. It is cruel, it is a terrible idea, and she should know better. But she cannot help herself, she needs to say this, and what is more, she needs Alfred to understand that she means it, too. “I never should have said those things to you.”

“Aurora-” Alfred starts and his eyes flutter close. She feels him shudder against her and makes a shushing sound. A sniffle escapes her and she leans against him again, allows her eyes to close and breathe in his proximity.

“I shouldn’t have said what I did,” she repeats, reaching up with one hand to toy with the hair at the back of his neck. “I lied, and I withheld, and I hate Sinclair for making me do this to you,” she continues but when Alfred tries to tell her it’s okay, she plunges on, “but I hate myself even more. I knew you’d be able to figure out I was lying, so I had to, find a way to make you believe I didn’t love you, even though I do.”

Alfred stiffens against her again. She feels him withdraw and clenches her eyes shut for a second before opening them when he lets go of her. He stares at her in surprise and shock, a glimmer of hope in his sad eyes.

“You love me?” he asks, his voice hoarse with unshed tears. She stares at him in shock, unable to believe that he might not have known, might not have figured it out.

_Of course I do_ , she wants to say. But she doesn’t. Because it is such a glip statement. As if loving him were inevitable and everyone felt that way about him. But the thing is, Alfred probably thinks no one does. His mother walked out on him, his father was ashamed of him. Aurora doesn’t remember Alfred ever telling her about someone and it sounding like he knew that person loved him.

“Yes,” she replies instead. Slowly, she reaches up, gives him time to withdraw. When he doesn’t, she cradles his face, brushes her thumbs over his cheeks. “I have fought it for so long, but I do, Alfred.”

“But, you said...” he starts, a frown appearing on his face. She keeps quiet, lets him remember what she said that night, at the bar.

_I don’t feel for you the way I felt for René._

And how could she? They are two completely different people. René and her, they were fierce and brazen and had each other’s backs. They’d have gone down together, guns blazing. There were times when it had felt like he’d been the only candle left in a sea of darkness around her.

But she survived losing him. _Twice_.

There is no doubt in her mind that she won’t survive losing Alfred. That if he dies, part of her will be lost forever. That it would be the last straw, the thing to completely destroy her. This war has been hell on her, but there is still a chance, a possibility of her being able to stitch herself back together once this is all over. If Alfred dies, that small chance will be gone. There won’t be any coming back from that brink, Aurora knows.

“You love me,” Alfred’s voice pulls her from her thoughts. It’s soft, filled with wonder at the realization. She gives him a sheepish smile as she feels the tears well up in her eyes again and lets out a depreciating laugh.

“I know I have a horrible way of showing-”

She doesn’t get any further than that, Alfred’s lips crashing against hers cut her off mid-sentence. Aurora lets out a surprised gasp and then her eyes flutter close and she relaxes into the kiss. Feels her body melt against his as he pulls her close, one hand twisting into her hair almost painfully. It feels so good to be this close again, to be able to touch him, to kiss him. They’ve never kissed like this before, but she wants to do it again and again and again, until there is nothing left on this earth besides them. Until all that matters is that Alfred and her, they are together, in this moment, alive, lungs breathing, hearts beating.

They’re running out of time. She has to go back, back to being Helene Bauer, back to pretending that she is a proud German woman, doing her best to help the war effort. But she has a few minutes left, a few more kisses, a few more touches. And even if she didn’t, there’s no way she’d just leave now. Not when there is the slightest chance that Alfred might take it as rejection.

“I love you,” she mumbles against his lips. Rubs her nose against his. The urgency goes out of them, their kisses growing softer.

“Never, ever forget that,” Aurora adds before she leans back to search Alfred’s face. He gives her a look that makes her roll her eyes at him. She knows he won’t forget this moment between them, but that isn’t what she is talking about. What she means by her words is that, even if she ends up having to push him away again, in order to protect them, protect the team, what is left of it, and their mission, she needs him to understand that it is not because she cares too little. On the contrary, she cares too much, way too much. And she never wants him to doubt her feelings for him ever again.

Alfred reaches up, brushes the pad of his thumb over her cheek. It’s only then that she realizes she’s crying, silent tears making their way down her face.

“I won’t,” he promises and leans forward. His forhead comes to rest against hers and Aurora draws a shuddering breath.

Everything is so messed up. The days of clear-cut missions seem so far away now, when they are here, in Poland, getting entangled in a web of lies and treachery she isn’t sure any of them can pick apart completely any longer.

But this, this is the truth. This is one thing she knows for certain, that she loves Alfred, more than she’d ever thought anyone could love a person. That is something she knows, knows for certain how much he means to her, how much she’d be willing to risk if it meant protecting, saving him.

And finally, Alfred knows, too. There are so many lies left, enough for her to trip over them if she’s not careful. But this is no longer one of them. Alfred knows she loves him, and despite her fears, she finds there is a strange sort of relief in the knowledge.

Tomorrow will be a new day, another day spent lying and deceiving. Another day as Helene Bauer. But right now, she can be Aurora Luft, for just a few moments more. She can be herself, with Alfred, and she is incredibly thankful for that small reprieve.

_fin._


End file.
